Page 28 of Overdue

“Please. Come in,” Eliot says, still standing at the door. Dramatic much? I ignore her and pull a wine glass from the cabinet. When it’s filled to the brim, I take a small sip. Not bad. Carrying the rest of the bottle in one hand and my glass in the other, I head to the couch.

“No, really. I’ll get my own glass.” Eliot mumbles as she digs around in the cabinet. She joins me in the living room. Eliot sits in one of the armchairs next to the couch. She pours herself a glass of wine, leans back, and waits.

“Aggggh!” I say dramatically. I am known as the dramatic sister, after all. Eliot is the responsible one, and Brontë is the pretty one. “I kissed Reed.” I slump back on the couch and throw my hands over my face.

“Okay,” Eliot responds.

“Eliot! Are you not listening? I kissed Reed Campbell.”

“I heard you.”

“Twice.”

“Uh-huh.”

I’m on the brink of throttling her. How can she be so calm? “Reed Campbell,” I enunciate slowly.

“Yes, I know who Reed is.”

“Eliot!”

“What? What is the big deal? So you kissed Reed. Call me crazy, but I guess I missed the sonic boom created when you two idiots finally gave in to what the rest of us have seen coming.”

Eliot calmly takes another sip of her wine. I stare at her in horror. She’s not getting it. “Fine.” Eliot rolls her eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

I start, beginning with that afternoon and continue until, breathless, I end with him yelling after me from his front door. I include every detail. Like how his shirt stretched across his pecs, the way his abs rippled like a washboard, and the dirty things his tongue made me wish for more of. The corner of Eliot’s mouth keeps creeping up.

“So? What do I do now?”

“Do you want my advice?” Eliot asked.

“Yes, Eliot, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“I thought you just came to drink all my wine.” I give her my best scowl. “Okay. Even though I’ve already told you this once, here goes. My advice is to stop being the raging bitch in the relationship and see where it goes.”

My mouth drops open.

“Look at it this way. The worst that can happen is you don’t work out and go back to snipping at each other all the time. But you might also wind up with an amazing man who has rippling abs and a naughty tongue. I can think of a whole lot worse things in life.”

“I can’t seem to stop being a giant harpy,” I admit. Eliot nods her head. I slump back on the couch. I guess I can see it now. Reed really is amazing. He moved back home, found a new job, and completely changed his life to take care of his grandmother.

“If you can drop your guard for a second, I think you’ll remember Reed hasn’t been all bad.” Perhaps it is time to grow up and remember all the times Reed had been that amazing guy instead of the jerk I think he is.

* * *

Dansboro Crossing has gotten one of those rare snows that only come once every ten years or so. The kind of snow that closes the school, shuts down businesses, and keeps the adults inside sipping on hot chocolate while they curl up in front of a roaring fireplace.

It’s the kind of snow that kids live a lifetime of school days praying for. The Caraway sisters are no exception.

I hop up and down in the front entryway, trying to pull on my rubber boots. Eliot is digging through the front closet, looking for her other glove. Brontë wrestles with the zipper on her coat.

When the doorbell rings, we all jump. Since I’m the closest, I jerk open the door to find Reed standing just outside.

“Oh, it’s you.” I’ve known him for a whole six months and still haven't warmed up to him.

“Brat,” he answers with a smirk.

“Hey, Reed. Ignore Austen, and come in,” Eliot calls from the back of the closet. Reed steps inside and closes the door. “Aha!” she exclaims, popping out of the closet, her other glove held triumphantly over her head.

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